公厕管理员The Two Cultures
C. P. Snow月完念什么
志当存高远作文
珍惜作文1 “It’s rather odd,” said G. H. Hardy, one afternoon in the early Thirties, “but when we hear about intellectuals nowadays, it doesn’t include people like me and J. J. Thomson and Rutherford.” Hardy was the first mathematician of his generation, J. J. Thomson the first physicist of his; as for Rutherford, he was one of the greatest scientists who have ever lived. Some bright young literary person (I forget the exact context) putting them outside the enclosure rerved for intellectuals emed to Hardy the best joke for some time. It does not em quite such a good joke now. The paration between the two cultures has been getting deeper under our eyes; there is now precious little communication between them, little but different kinds of incomprehension1 and dislike.
2 The traditional culture, which is, of cour, mainly literary, is behaving like a state who power is rapidly declining—standing on its precarious2 dignity, spending far too much energy on Alexandrian intricacies, [1] occasionally letting fly in fits of aggressive pique3 quit
e beyond its means, [2] too much on the defensive4 to show any generous imagination to the forces, which must inevitably reshape it. Whereas the scientific culture is expansive, not restrictive, confident at the roots, the more confident after its bout5 of Oppenheimerian lf-criticism, certain that history is on its side, impatient, intolerant, and creative rather than critical, good-natured and brash6. Neither culture knows the virtues of the other; often it ems they deliberately do not want to know. [3] The rentment, which the traditional culture feels for the scientific, is shaded with fear; from the other side, the rentment is not shaded so much as brimming7 with irritation. When scientists are faced with an expression of the traditional culture, it tends (to borrow Mr. William Cooper’s eloquent phra) to make their feet ache.
含有天和地的成语3 It does not need saying that [4]generalizations of this kind are bound to look silly at the edges. There are a good many scientists indistinguishable from literary persons, and vice versa. Even the stereotype generalizations about scientists are misleading without some sort of detail—e.g., the generalization that scientists as a group stand on the political Left. This is only partly true. A very high proportion of engineers is almost as cons
ervative as doctors; of pure scientists; the same would apply to chemists. It is only among physicists and biologists that one finds the Left in strength. If one compared the whole body of scientists with their opposite numbers of the traditional culture (writers, academics, and so on), the total result might be a few per cent, more towards the Left wing, but not more than that. [5]Nevertheless, as a first approximation, the scientific culture is real enough, and so is its difference from the traditional. For anyone like mylf, by education a scientist, by calling a writer, at one time moving between groups of scientists and writers in the same evening, the difference has emed dramatic.简笔画松鼠
4 The first thing, impossible to miss, is that scientists are on the up and up; they have the strength of a social force behind them. If they are English, they share the experience common to us all—of being in a country sliding economically downhill—but in addition (and to many of them it ems psychologically more important) they belong to something more than a profession, to something more like a directing class of a new society. [6]In a n oddly divorced from politics, they are the new men. Even the steadiest and most politically conrvative of scientific veterans, [7] lurking8 in dignity in their colleges, has s
电磁污染ome kind of link with the world to come. They do not hate it as their colleagues do; part of their mind is open to it; [8]almost against their will, there is a residual glimmer of kinship there. The young English scientists may and do cur their luck; increasingly they fret9 about the rigidities of their universities, about the ossification10 of the traditional culture which, to the scientists, makes the universities cold and dead; they violently envy their Russian counterparts who have money and equipment without discernible11 limit, who have the whole field wide open. But still they stay pretty resilient12: the same social force sweeps them on. Harwell and Winscale have just as much spirit as Los Alamos and Chalk River: the neat petty bourgeois hous, the tough and clever young, the crowds of children: they are symbols, frontier towns.
5 There is a touch of the frontier qualities, in fact, about the whole scientific culture. Its tone is, for example, steadily heteroxual. The difference in social manners between Harwell and Hampstead or as far as that goes between Los Alamos and Greenwich Village, would make an anthropologist blink. [9]About the whole scientific culture, there is an abnce—surprising to outsiders—of the feline13 and oblique14. Sometimes it ems
that scientists relish15 speaking the truth, especially when it is unpleasant. The climate of personal relations is singularly bracing16, not to say harsh: it strikes bleakly on tho unud to it, who suddenly find that [10] the scientists’ way of deciding on action is by a full-dress argument, with no regard for nsibilities and no holds barred17. No body of people ever believed more in dialectic as the primary method of attaining n; [11]and if you want a picture of scientists in their off-moments, it could be just one of a knock-about18 argument. Under the argument there glitter egotisms as rapacious19 as any of ours: but, unlike ours, the egotisms are driven by a common purpo.
